Hearing that Song Heping had taken on this business deal, the scene suddenly felt somewhat uncontrollable, with the junior officials cheering and embracing each other, some even started spinning around and dancing.
Really?
Song Heping was surprised by their unusually excited reaction.
But he soon understood why.
Life.
It was all about life.
Even though having two bodyguards couldn't guarantee absolute safety.
In the face of roadside bomb attacks, the bodyguards would be blown up along with everyone else.
But having them was better than not having at all.
Like that uncle of Yusuf's, if he had had two bodyguards, he probably wouldn't have died.
"Everyone, quiet down, quiet down!"
He had to raise his hands again to calm the crowd.
"Let me say a few more words."
The scene quieted down again.
Song Heping said, "What I want to say is, with so many government employees in Baghdad, I can't possibly provide personal bodyguard services for each and every one of you, all I can say is…"
He raised his hand toward the people in front of him.
"It's limited to those present here."
The room continued to remain quiet.
Everyone seemed to be digesting the implications of Song Heping's words and were slow to react.
"No problem!"
After a brief silence, Yusuf broke the quiet.
"That's not an issue at all, right?"
He turned to the others.
"Any objections?"
"No problem!"
The customs official next to him suddenly laughed.
"Do you have any problem?"
Yusuf then asked an official from the Temporary Management Committee.
The man also seemed to come to his senses, shaking his head quickly, "No problem!"
Song Heping smiled, "This service is not an official security contract, but a personal service I provide to those seated here, so it's also a gentleman's agreement among us, not involving any United Security Council transactions, it's not public, this is personal."
At the end, he even specially glanced at Yusuf next to him, emphasizing.
"For the sake of our brother Yusuf here."
With that said, Yusuf's face shone with pride, feeling tremendously honored.
Song Heping counted quietly to himself.
There were seventy-two people present, including Yusuf, which meant he needed 144 bodyguards. If each local bodyguard was paid $200 a month, that meant a monthly expenditure of $28,800, and the total cost for bodyguards per year would be $345,600.
With a minimum accidental insurance plan of $300 per person per year, the insurance expense per year would be $43,200.
Together, less than $400,000 per year.
Given the support of two oil field security contracts, this amount wasn't a significant burden.
He could afford it.
But these seventy plus individuals would be quite useful to him, the $400,000 cost could bring back much more than that.
As for how to break even, Song Heping already had an idea.
That evening, Song Heping intentionally stayed until last, waiting for the guests to leave before he pulled Yusuf back to the table to sit down.
"Brother, there's something I need to talk to you about."
"You tell me, as long as I can do it."
Yusuf was straightforward.
It seemed that he understood that Song Heping certainly had some sensitive topics to discuss.
Because Song Heping had just taken responsibility by promising to provide bodyguard services, but never mentioned where the money would come from or how much each person would need to pay.
Pies don't just fall from the sky; adult interactions are all about interest.
Song Heping was straightforward, "You and your friends' all security expenses I can pay from my company's budget, and I do not need you to pay out of your own pocket, but I need some help from you."
"What kind of help?" Yusuf asked.
Song Heping said, "The quantity of arms I've acquired from you is significant, and now there are people abroad who want them, but shipping them out isn't so simple; I need the proper procedures that will allow these arms to be shipped from the port officially, or rather, arrangements that will allow me to ship out from the southern port."
"Procedures…"
Yusuf scratched his head.
"You mean, official procedures?"
Song Heping said, "I heard that if there are procedures issued by the Temporary Management Committee or the temporary government, inspections can be waived."
Yusuf said, "That's correct, but those are generally for the transportation of supplies to the coalition forces, mostly military supplies."
Song Heping asked, "Exactly, those kinds. Can you obtain them?"
Yusuf said, "Getting that kind of paperwork isn't easy…"
Song Heping added, "Just now, wasn't there someone from the United Security Council among us? Can he arrange the paperwork?"
Yusuf said, "I can ask, but don't get your hopes up too high."
Song Heping smirked, "Yusuf, I consider you a brother, so don't play games with me; either you can do it, or you can't. If you can manage it, I guarantee you can also make a good amount of money. To be honest with you, I'm very interested in those military supplies in your Temporary Management Committee.
From what I know, you all have not only the previous government's confiscated arms but also those purchased with United States funds earmarked for reconstruction; a third of the $120 billion the Americans put up was used for security in Illiguo, including a large batch of arms."
"As someone who handles supplies, if you could unofficially get some out and sell them to me, I can then coordinate with my clients to sell them on, making profits for both sides, including the one who helps me with the customs procedures. I definitely won't let anyone come up short—all involved will make money!"
Song Heping's words ignited Yusuf's anti-corruption desire.
Last time, Song Heping had bought over a million US dollars' worth of arms, of which a portion went into smoothing relationships but the bulk of it went into his own pocket.
It must be said, this was quite a way to make money.
Previously, he'd been siphoning off small quantities of unregistered, unlogged supplies onto the black market. The amounts were small, so the profits weren's substantial.
After getting to know Song Heping, Yousuf finally tasted what it meant to make real money.
He was well aware of how massive the current arms stockpile in Illiguo was.
In the past, Sadam had procured possessions for an army of 1.2 million, and now the Americans were also contributing, transporting all sorts of fighting vehicles, tanks, individual equipment, ammunition, and more from their own country to here, making it a vast resource pool that could transform into wealth to potentially make oneself a millionaire in the future.
As for any troubles that might arise, they weren't even worth considering.
Make enough money, then slip away.
To Turkey or another Middle Eastern country.
Given that his own country had no hope left, it was better to plan ahead sooner rather than later.
Now that someone had provided him with a path to riches, not taking it would be foolish.
"Brother, give me three days. I'll scout things out, then I'll give you an answer," he said.
Yousuf finally gave his final answer.
Song Heping reminded him, "Good, give me an answer in three days. But remember, Yousuf, black money is still black money. You can't hog it all to yourself. The more people you involve, the safer it is, you get me?"
Yousuf nodded repeatedly, "I understand, I can't hog it all or I'll burst."
Song Heping then smiled and said, "Right, my goal is to create our own Baghdad Brotherhood to get rich together. Think about it, Illiguo is in chaos now. The Americans who come here aren't here to be charitable. They don't see you guys as people, but you can't afford to not see yourselves as such.
Look at those big shots in the Temporary Management Committee, United Security Council, and the Project Reconstruction Committee, who isn't making money? Seize this opportunity, work hard for a few years, and once you're financially free, take your kids and leave this war-torn place. I know you and Samir aren't on the same path; he won't leave Illiguo, but you, you don't want to stay here."
Yousuf had to admire Song Heping's sharp insight.
He truly didn't want to stay.
This country was done for; it wouldn't recover its vitality for decades.
The Americans here didn't seem to have any departure plans.
If he'd had enough money, he would have run away long ago.
Working in the Temporary Management Committee was just to make a living. Considering the current rate of attacks, it was uncertain how long he could last there. Any day, he might end up like his uncle, sent to meet his maker by a burst from an assault rifle on the road.
Song Heping was right.
Better to plan ahead earlier.
...
After leaving Yousuf's house, Song Heping drove back to the Green Zone.
Suddenly, his satellite phone rang.
He picked it up and saw it was an unfamiliar number, but he answered it anyway.
"Who is this?"
"It's your old friend, Avanti."
The voice on the other end was a deep male baritone.
"Oh, it's you. I almost hung up; I saw it was an unfamiliar number," Song Heping said straightforwardly.
"That's not a good habit," Avanti said. "I'm calling you on a secure line, so the number looks strange."
Song Heping asked, "What's up? Calling so late?"
Avanti said, "I have something to tell you."
Song Heping asked, "What is it?"
Avanti said gravely, "The Freedom Army is finished, completely finished. Just now, we took over all their territory."
That fast?!
Song Heping was actually somewhat impressed with this Avanti.
Decisive in action, swift in execution, without dragging his feet.
Good.
He liked collaborating with this kind of person.
"Does this mean my oil fields are much safer now?" Song Heping asked.
Avanti laughed heartily over the phone, "Haha, of course. Although there are many armed groups along the Northern Border, the Madheh Army is now the most powerful. The smaller fry who saw you wipe out the Freedom Army's headquarters won't dare to touch you now.
The only ones who could threaten you are us and the Kurd Armed, and the Kurd Armed won't have the capacity to bother you any time soon as they are locked in a standoff with us."
Song Heping said, "Then I owe you thanks."
Avanti was straightforward, "No need for thanks, just honor your promise."
Song Heping knew he was hinting at the matter of sending someone to Turkey to bring back Hassan.
"No problem," he replied.
Song Heping wasn't planning to break his word.
"But you also need to keep your own promise, my fake identity."
"No problem, I've already had someone take care of that for you," Avanti said. "You have to trust our efficiency. When are we meeting again?"
"Is it urgent?"
Song Heping remembered he had to wait for Yousuf's answer in three days.
"Very urgent," Avanti said. "Our people in Turkey have found out that the CIA is already watching Hassan."
"CIA?"
Song Heping felt a faint headache emerging at his temples again.
It seemed like he couldn't avoid this agency wherever he went.
He didn't want to provoke these guys.
But sometimes, he had no choice but to face them.
Avanti said, "Yes, so we don't have much time left. We must act first."
"Tomorrow night, same old rules, meet in the desert, send me the coordinates, then take your helicopter to Persia, meet on your turf, how about that?"
"No problem, my friend."